Morgan
by CaptTARDIS
Summary: What happens a year after Chuck 312? Well, I suppose Morgan is about to find out! - Warnings: Eventual light slash pairing and odd pairings that I refuse to give away. Updates stalled; don't know when they'll restart.
1. 01 Morgan Versus the Pilot PART1

_**Spoilers**_ for pretty much all seasons of Chuck! Just so you know. It wouldn't fit in the descrip.

* * *

I was ATTACKED by plot bunnies! More vicious than the bunny in Monty Python! I had to write this. It'll be a serial (possibly a quite long one), instead of a one-shot or two-shot as my others are.

This stemmed from a conversation with a friend, wherein we discussed the failings of the latest season of Chuck and what might happen in its current direction. Due to the last episode, my mind went in a strange yet… somehow fitting direction. Hope you enjoy; however, I'm not very good at keeping characters, well, in character. I WILL be changing Shaw's character, though, because I don't like him now, and to play the role he's supposed to play in this story, he needs to change.

**Disclaimers/Warnings:**

I sadly don't own Chuck, but be thankful for that, because I'm not that good of a writer anyway. I'm at least insane.

This contains slash, as stated in the summary. Please be aware that slash means male/male pairings. If you don't like slash, then don't read this story. Or read it so you can see how cute it is and be converted! x)

If I fail on the characters, it's all my fault. If I fail and you must tell me so, please don't just state that I did fail - I probably realize I did - tell me how to fix it; examples would be awesome.

If you've read my profile, discount all my listed favorite pairings for Chuck. This was a vicious, heartless, brilliant!plot bunny that will ruin just about every shipper out there except for the minority groups. Charah/Chasey shippers and Shaw haters, be prepared to have your hearts broken. (I still hold to my pairings, FYI, I just like this idea. So I'm running with it.)

* * *

**Morgan**

Chuck walked into the Buy More humming. Life was going well. He was a full spy, had a hot girlfriend, was filthy rich (but liked to live a quiet life anyway); in fact, he couldn't think of any life he'd rather be living. His best buddy Morgan waved frantically at him from the counter where he was chatting with Jeff and Lester, before doing that Pink-Panther-like run to catch up with him.

"Dude, dude!" he lowered his voice, barely containing his excitement. It was a wonder to Chuck how he could be so hyped up about the whole thing after a year. "Soooooo? How was, you know, _it?"_

Chuck decided to put on a show for Morgan and sighed deeply.

"It was amazing, little buddy. Who knew it would still be so good after so long? But sometimes it's just a test of endurance, you know?"

"Yeah, yeah," Morgan agreed, "Man! I wish I had your life."

"Don't be too sure about that, buddy" Chuck said, spacing out slightly, "I don't think you'd like it. Spy life is not all it's cracked up to be, anyway. Some of it is just as boring as working at the Buy more, you know?"

Morgan gave him a blank look that basically said, "You're kidding, right?" and trotted back to Jeff and Lester. Chuck made a mental note to keep a close eye on them. When Jeff, Lester and Morgan spent that much time together, something was up.

Casey was the next to corner him.

"Well?"

Chuck jumped. "Jeez, Casey! Make more noise or something, would ya? I mean, you didn't even start with a greeting," he continued the next part in a high pitched voice, "'Oh Chuck, good morning, so nice to see you!'  
"Why thank you, John, what a lovely thing to say. Nice to see you, too.  
"'Oh you flatter me, you handsome hunk. Eeheehee.'"

Chuck scrunched up his face, giggling and waving his hand embarrassedly. Casey grabbed it.

"I thought we went over this. Keep it in your pants, Bartowski."

"It's Carmichael. Charles Carmichael," he replied in a (horrible) Sean Connery accent, "and you didn't seem to mind so much when we were making out that one time."

Casey gave him a venomous glare. "That meant nothing. It was a trade off for life, anyway."

"Hnnnn," Chuck laughed, "Right. You just keep telling yourself that."

He patted him on the shoulder and walked away. Casey soon caught up with him, however.

"Wait, I was going to ask you how your mission went."

Chuck shrugged.

"I didn't care for it. At least I didn't have to kill. I haven't since that test… I still can't thank you enough for that-"

"Don't mention it. I mean it," he grunted and slowly walked away.

"Hey," Chuck called after him, "You're all right, right? I mean the whole… normal life is working for you and all, right?"

Casey paused, debating to himself how he should respond. Eventually he gave a tight nod.

"Yeah."

"Great. That's… great. Yeah." Chuck stood awkwardly for a moment. "I'm gonna go… yeah… fix computers and stuff."

The rest of the work day was a bit of a bore. Jeff and Lester kept bugging him as usual, and Morgan would find any opportunity to drag more information on his latest mission out of him. When Chuck finally got home, Morgan tagging along behind him still chatting happily, it was a great feeling to hit the couch and prop his feet up. The General had personally _promised_ a whole evening free from work, unless it was a national emergency or greater.

Morgan eventually stopped his constant chatter to say, "Well, buddy, I can see you need a little R&R – you awesome spy, you, haha – I'm gonna go upstairs and play some Call of Duty, alright?"

"You do that," Chuck said, closing his eyes at last, a smile on his face.

Morgan hurried up the stairs quietly, but quickly. Chuck had just bought the new Call of Duty, and he was itching to play it. Graphics, guns, and an escape from reality. Just what he needed; just like every other night. Morgan turned on the computer and drummed his fingers on the desk, waiting for it to boot up. Chuck had thankfully foreseen this moment and placed 12 grape sodas and a box of Cheez-its on the desk in handy reach. He would have to hug that man and his brilliance, sometime.

The computer finally turned on – then went dark.

"What?!" he yelled, then remembered Chuck was downstairs and lowered his voice, "Come onnn! You can't be nice to me even once, can you?"

*Blip*

A little white box popped up on the screen.

_Hello, Morgan._

Morgan looked around the room nervously, unsure of what was going on.

*Blip*

_Do not be nervous. We have picked you to be our next test subject. Do you wish to participate?_

A flashing bar appeared on the screen, signaling Morgan to write something back.

"Oh, god," Morgan was starting to panic, "Oh god, Chuck is going to be mad… but… ahhh, what can it hurt? It's probably part of his really cool spy protection on his computer."

He rubbed his hands together gleefully and punched in:

_Y-E-S_

*Blip*

_Very good, Mr. Grimes. Please wait a moment._

Morgan waited for several minutes and started tapping his fingers on the desk again. Maybe it was a virus or something. Chuck would know… but he didn't want to bother him, and he might be mad. He was always freaking out over Morgan getting involved in anything remotely cool. He started to get lost in memories and grape soda when the computer responded with a *blip* again.

Morgan quickly set down the grape soda to read the message. Unfortunately, there was no message to read. A giant white play button would blink on the screen every other second. He made sure there was still no one else in the room, clicked it-

-and promptly passed out.

* * *

Well? Was it good for a newbie? R&R would make my entire day. The read and review kind, though a nap like Chuck is taking would be awesome, too.


	2. 01 Morgan Versus the Pilot PART2

Woot! I got (a) review(s)! FYI, I love you all who take a chance and read stuff like this. It makes me all warm and fuzzy inside to see "1 new email" and have it a positive review of my story! ^_^ As such, I wrote a new chapter ASAP. Hope it continues to be as good as I think the first was. (Maybe it'll improve! :D)

Now you can see my brilliant "episode" titles up in the corner there! I would also like to tell all of you, if you comment and leave ideas/plot points/things you want to see happen, I might use some of them. Please do! I'm always looking to improve on a story from outside help. Credit will be given to the originator of the idea, even if the idea is altered somewhat.

* * *

"Morgan!"

Morgan groaned. The chair had gotten suddenly uncomfortable, but given his position, that wasn't surprising. He was slumped in the chair, his arms hooked behind the armrests and his head tipped fully backwards. He choked a little picking it up again. Chuck was staring at him with his honest brown eyes, looking close to slapping him or dumping ice water on his face.

"Yo," he said somewhat sleepily, "What's up, man? I thought you were sleeping or something."

Chuck stared at him for a few long seconds.

"Morgan, it's been 5 hours since you came up here."

"Oh."

Chuck looked at him with an almost suspicious face, Morgan thought.

"You sure you're all right, buddy?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Soooo… Where do I sleep tonight? Here?"

"No," Chuck replied immediately, "Lou's coming over tonight. I have a whole dinner planned out. You're spending the night at Casey's."

"Awww, come on, man," Morgan said, putting on his best devastated pout, "Ellie and Awesome's at least. Please!" He lowered his voice to the smallest whisper he could manage, "That guy _scares_ me, Chuck."

"Morgan, just this once, don't you dare interrupt my date."

"Alright, alright. I get it. Just this once. But if I die, you're cremating me, mixing me with grape soda, and feeding me to an unwittingJohnCasey!"

"Still breathing?"

Morgan inhaled deeply, held it, then said, "Yeah, yeah, I think so. Alright, man, I'm off. Have a good time with your girl. Tell me all about it, later!"

Chuck just shook his head as Morgan hoisted himself out his new Morgan-Door and headed for Casey's place. Casey opened the door just before he knocked, looking like Lurch.

"Chuck told me you were coming," he grunted, "Don't see why he can't just stuff you in a closet for the night. You'd _fit."_

Morgan chuckled nervously and fidgeted.

"Well? Are you coming in or not? I guess you could always sleep outside."

"Oh, right!"

He ducked under Casey's arm and flopped down on his couch. Normally he'd demand a bigger bed or something, but Casey was giving him a look that **dared** him to try it. Morgan wasn't in a being-decapitated-or-far-worse mood, so he kept silent.

"Move."

Casey shoved his legs with a TV remote. Morgan quickly removed his legs so Casey could sit down and turn on the TV. The sobs from whoever was on Oprah started to ring throughout the room.

"What?" Casey demanded preemptively.

"I-I wasn't saying anything."

"Lost was on before."

"Yeah. Yeah, good show."

Silence (except for Oprah talking in the background) reigned. Morgan was about to say something, anything, to break the silence, when Casey changed the channel. It was the local news channel.

"In other news," the reporter was saying, "Pilot John Wilkolms will be signing his book, The Dangers of Flying, in Burbank, tomorrow! This-"

Her voice blurred and drowned out. Morgan saw a butterfly, no, a turtle, no… a clip from the crowning of the Queen of England or something. And OW! it hurt; like a body slam from a raging rhinoceros. Finally, loads of information he didn't know before piled and forced its way into his head, and the rhinoceros was forgotten.

He gasped for air, finally seeing Casey shaking him. He groaned. Passing out seemed to be his thing today. Then the information hit him again.

"JOHN! I MEAN CASEY! I MEAN SCARY GUY; DON'T KILL ME!"

"Shut up, midget, killing is (unfortunately) illegal for me now, remember?"

"That – that guy! Someone's going to try to kill him! He wrote a specialized code in his book, and someone wants it. Millennium. Agh! F***! How do I know this? No, how do we save him?!"

"I **can't**; neither can you. We're both civilians. Where's Chuck?"

"This is one of his flash things, right? Right? His didn't seem painful, did it? I mean-"

"**Shut** _up_. _Where is Chuck?"_

"On a date. Don't disturb him! He seemed kind of serious about it. I wouldn't – I don't think you should-"

Casey glared at him. "Where?"

"His house."

Casey threw open his door and ran out, Morgan struggling to keep up behind him. Rose petals littered the walk, and a ribbon was tied to the doorknob of Chuck's house. Casey made a grunt of disgust but Morgan, for once, put two and two together… He got a bad feeling that this was a horrible time to be interrupting Chuck's date.

Casey threw Chuck's door open, too, and Morgan winced. Chuck was in the middle of sliding off the couch to kneel before a very surprised, but happy, Lou. Chuck bit back a swear and calmly asked, "What is it, John Casey?"

"According to your little shrimp friend here, I'd say it's your kind of emergency," he gave Chuck a meaningful look before continuing, "If you want to keep the best job you'll ever have in a Millennium, you need to go talk to Sarah. Oh, and bring the dwarf."

Chuck looked torn between exploding and killing himself. Finally he let out a deep sigh and stood up straight.

"Lou, stay _right_ where you are, honey. I'll be back in an hour or so."

Lou gave him a halfhearted smile, and Morgan felt horrible yet again. He muttered something comforting he hoped Lou heard before yet again following Casey out the door.

* * *

Well? Well? :D *excited puppy* Remember to keep a Chuck Author happy, or he/she may decide to curse your eyes with a Jeff/General Beckman PWP fic. And we don't want that, do we? _I kid_, I kid! I would never do that. But seriously, reviews make me superhappy. :D


	3. 01 Morgan Versus the Pilot PART3

I spare you the pre-chapter rants for now. ;) (Changed rating to T for swearing, because I like to swear.)

* * *

"Wowwww," Morgan gaped as they entered the secret base, "It's my third time down here and it's _still_ cool. Did you guys get new technology? Are you reading my brain now with some new sensor thingy?"

Casey turned on his heel, forcing Morgan to back away.

"Shut it. I'm in no mood to take your inane crap."

"Jeez, what's got you all worked up?"

Casey just grunted.

"It's good to be back here again," he sighed under his breath; Morgan almost missed it.

Sarah rounded the corner to see Chuck, Casey and Morgan all facing her.

"What are you doing here, Casey? You, too, Morgan? Neither of you should be here! Chuck, what are you thinking?"

Shaw stepped out behind her, a disapproving look on his normally stoic face. Casey tensed.

"Morgan has, um, something to tell you."

Chuck joined Sarah and Shaw in facing them. The suspicious look that Morgan had last seen in his face had turned into a plain quizzical look. Morgan wondered briefly how he survived in the "spy biz" with that open face of his.

"Um, I um, sort of saw something," Morgan laughed nervously, "I mean remembered something." He paused for a moment, searching for what he wanted to say. "I know something which I sort of saw. Kind of."

"Just spit it out," Casey growled.

"There's a pilot guy. John Wilfonz or something-"

"John Wilkolms?" Shaw suggested.

"Yeah, him. Someone's, er, going to kill him."

"That sounds like a job for the regular police," Shaw said, "Not for CIA or NSA."

Morgan was about to explain further, but Casey interrupted him, "Does the word 'Millennium' ring any bells in that genius head of yours?"

Shaw's eyes widened and he drew a sharp intake of breath. Sarah just looked between them, confused. When neither offered up any information beyond glances of trepidation, she turned to Chuck who had the information in a few seconds.

"Millennium… oh my god. The most widespread underground network since the mafia. Vicious and heartless. If they ruled the world, it would instantly look like 1984 but with a lot more torture. What do they want with him?"

"His book, um, has a code, er, code thing. In it."

He looked among the group, a worried expression on his face.

"You guys aren't going to kill me, are you?"

"Depends," snorted Casey.

Shaw stepped forward, placing a hand on Morgan's shoulder.

"No, we're not going to kill you. You need to tell us how you got this information, though."

"I just – oh. Heh. Chuck, you wouldn't happen to know about a program on your computer, would you? The screen goes black when you turn it on and it talks to you."

Chuck sighed, placing his forehead in his palm.

"Morgan, when you learned this information, were there lots of pictures?"

Morgan nodded quickly. "And pain. Lots of pain," he added.

"Rhinoceros?"

"Rhinoceros."

"Morgan has the old intersect in his head," Chuck explained to the others, "I don't know how the program got on my computer. Someone must have also modified it to feed information to more normal people in a faster amount of time, then remotely hacked into my computer. I don't know how it happened; my computer has high security measures placed on it now."

"So Morgan…?" Sarah started hesitantly.

"Is now the old me, yes."

"Hey, whoa, whoa," Morgan interjected, waving his hands, "I'm still Morgan. Morgan the Awesome. Morgan the Cool of Cools. Morgan the Dwarf, even. I am _not_ Morgan 'the Old Chuck.' That doesn't even matter, anyway! There's a man who's going to die in-" he checked his watch, "under 15 hours. Shouldn't we be doing something by now?"

"Right," Shaw said, dropping his hand from Morgan's shoulder. Morgan hadn't even noticed it until then. "Sarah, you and I are going to talk to Wilkolms; Chuck, we need any information you might have on him. Casey, Morgan, go back to your life. We'll handle this. We appreciate your assistance."

"Hey, wait," Chuck said, "I want Casey on my team for this one."

"Casey-"

"Has been very quiet about getting fired, and a valuable assistance to our team even when he hasn't been asked for it. All very well within civilian restrictions, too. I want Casey on my team."

"Fine," Shaw conceded.

"And Morgan."

"No," Casey, Shaw, and Sarah (in the other room) said in unison.

"Morgan has also been very capable of handling himself. He even took out one of the agents when we were captured and none of you were around. And he deserves to go on at least one mission; he gave us the information."

"Chuck," Sarah said, trying to soothingly change his mind, "what if Millennium finds out that Morgan is a new intersect? His life will never be the same. You know how you felt during your first mission."

"I didn't know anything," Chuck defended, "I didn't want any part of this. Morgan does, and he deserves to see at least a little what it's like."

Morgan started getting impatient.

"Doesn't the 'object' in question get a say, too?"

"Yes," Chuck said.

"No," said Sarah.

"Hear him out!" Shaw interrupted.

"How about we all shut the hell up?" Casey muttered.

"I want to go," Morgan plowed ahead, "Please? Just this once. I swear, I'll never bother you guys again."

Sarah sighed. "Fine. Just this once. Chuck? Bullet-proof vest and with him at all times. I'm going to go call the General."

"Yessssss," Morgan punched the air. Chuck grinned and dragged him off to outfit him with a bullet-proof vest under his shirt. Morgan ogled all the weapons, wondering out loud what each of them was used for and giving them nicknames.

Chuck was happy enough to explain some of them to him and make up a few names, but after he finished showing Morgan how to put on the vest himself, they had spent enough time. Sarah was waiting outside, arms crossed. Shaw was standing behind her again, with his arms behind him.

"General Beckman approved of Morgan going on this ONE mission," she said.

"Just don't get yourself killed," Shaw added.

"Right, right," Morgan said, not paying much attention, "So when do we start, huh? Do you need me to like… 'flash' on something?"

"No," Sarah replied, "No, we have Chuck for that."

"Right," Morgan said, looking disheartened, "Chuck: still the Wonder Boy. I'll just… go. Back home. I mean back to Casey's."

He turned to go, and if he had been a dog, his tail would have been between his legs. Chuck gave Sarah and Shaw a pleading look. Shaw rolled his eyes.

"Morgan," he called, "I changed my mind. You and I will go talk to the target. Sarah, you'll stay here with John and Chuck."

"Annnnd I'll be going," Chuck said, sliding out the door, "You guys have Morgan, and I have something to do."

Once Chuck was out of sight, Shaw turned to Morgan with a quick nod.

"It'll be late, but we have to try talking Wilkolms out of his book signing. We can't have that code tortured out of him. And we don't want him to die, obviously, but the safety of the world should be more important, I think."

Morgan just nodded and followed Shaw out of the room. Casey looked over at Sarah.

"You two are still-?"

Sarah nodded curtly.

"Yes."

"You're happy?"

"Yes."

"No you aren't," he said. It wasn't an accusation. Instead there seemed to be, God forbid, gentleness in his voice.

"It's just," Sarah turned around and leaned against the desk while she thought of what to say, "he seems so distant recently. One moment he's fine, the next he seems far away."

"You don't have to stay with him, you know."

"I can't just leave."

"So talk it out," John Casey said, wondering why in the world he was offering love advice to these two of all people, "Find out what's wrong."

"I've tried that," Sarah sighed, "He's never very responsive."

"So you don't have to stay."

The two shared a long, silent look, trying to break each other's facial barriers; neither succeeding very well.

"So how about you? Found a girl yet?"

Casey nodded. "But I don't think it would work between us."

"Awww," Sarah said, sympathetic, "Why not?"

"She's taken," John sighed, mostly to himself.

~***~

Shaw pressed the doorbell once, firmly, then knocked a few times on the door. Minutes later, a well-dressed, yet unkempt-looking man with graying frizzy hair opened the door. Morgan resisted the urge to gape. The man looked like a retired playboy combined with some secret, evil, mad scientist.

"What?" he barked, "It's 11 PM at night. Have you no respect? I have yet another important day tomorrow."

"Mr. Wilkolms, we're from the FBI," Shaw flipped an ID in his face, "I'm Bernard Smith and this is Michael Way. We have reason to believe that you will be attacked, kidnapped, then murdered during your book signing tomorrow."

"I know about all that."

Morgan didn't even resist this time. "What?!"

"Yeah. You NSA/CIA guys might want to clean up your act, too. For God's sake, The Dangers of Flying is a children's book. Assault, kidnapping AND murdering in one breath? That's a bit over the top for any normal guy, right? Oh stop staring before I slap you," he added towards Morgan, "I wrote the most bloody complicated code in history. I'm a genius: geniuses are, by definition, not stupid. Of course I know about Millennium."

"O-okay then," Morgan said hastily, tugging at Shaw's sleeve, "I think our work is done here then, so long as you're aware."

"Morgan, shut up," Shaw hissed at him, then louder to John Wilkolms, "Sir, I really think you shouldn't go to that book signing. Or at least assign us to your personal protection duty."

"Already got bodyguards," he said, shutting the door. Shaw stuck a foot in it before it closed.

"Agent Daniel Shaw. Code: 14859. Sir, either do not go to that book signing, or allow us to protect you."

"Damn this government and its secret passwords and laws. Fine then, Daniel Shaw, make what you will of the situation, I am going to that book signing. You may tag along if you wish."

"Thank you, sir," he told him before the door slammed in his face. "You know," he said to Morgan, "it's too bad it would be too risky to let him suffer through a bit of torture before we rescue him."

* * *

Heh, I'm getting better at this fic thing. I'm thinking two more parts before the end of this episode. Well? How's it going, eh? :D Maybe if I get enough R&R, Morgan will get to fly a plane! A carrier plane or one of those ancient things that looks like it was flown at Kitty Hawk.


	4. 01 Morgan Versus the Pilot PART4

"You want a **what**?" Big Mike demanded over the phone, "For **who**?!"

"Morgan and I need a break from work today," Chuck explained to him.

"This better not be for another Call of Duty frat boy party!"

"No, sir, not at all. It's just a personal day," Chuck said hastily.

"Oh, Chuck," Mike said, trepidation clearly evident in his voice, "You and Morgan aren't…"

"What?! No, sir, not at all! I mean Morgan mi– but no. No!"

"Well, all right, then. Just this once Chuck; because you asked."

"Thank you, sir. Thank you so much." He hung up and turned to Morgan. "Alright, buddy, your job is safe and sound, and you're home free. Just stick close to Shaw, alright?"

Morgan nodded, and Chuck sighed. He could only hope Morgan would use common sense later, because he certainly wasn't using his hearing now. He seemed too excited, and kept fiddling with the straps on his vest.

The doorbell rang and Morgan ran to the door, almost bouncing on his toes. The doorbell didn't disappoint as he opened it to reveal one Daniel Shaw in a casual graphic tee and jeans. He half-smirked at the puppy-dog look of excitement on Morgan's face.

"Ready to go?"

Morgan nodded, wide-eyed. Shaw led him out with one hand on his back, the other waving at Chuck. Morgan thought things couldn't get any better, until they reached Shaw's car.

"No way! You have the new Ford Mustang?"

Shaw nodded. "It's not too low key, is it?" he asked, worriedly.

"Dude, the only way you could make your ride more awesome is by driving around in an Aston Martin! Is this seriously what a spy's paycheck is like?"

"Hmm. We do some dangerous work," Shaw explained, "and to compensate, we get full pay for even missions like the one with Bartowski."

"Coool. So not only do you have the most epic job ever, you get paid almost millions to do it? That's almost as good as professional gaming!"

He slid slowly into the car, almost caressing the leather gently. Then Shaw got it, pressed a button, and the top slid back.

"Another perk of spy life: the edits."

On the ride over to John Wilkolms' house, Morgan tried to look as cool as possible in the passenger seat, especially at stoplights. At one point, they pulled up next to a beefy guy on a motorcycle who looked over at Morgan and grinned. He was missing three teeth, and a scar stretched from his forehead to his chin. Morgan shrank back as small as possible in his seat, but couldn't avoid being in his line of sight. Then, as the light turned green, so did the biker's face and he sped off as quickly as his motorcycle could take it.

Morgan glanced over at Shaw quickly and barely managed to catch his face turning back to the road. He was grinning to himself until he caught Morgan staring.

"What?" he demanded.

"I don't know. What did you do to that guy?"

"Nothing. I guess you're just a tough guy."

Morgan rolled his eyes. "Until just a few seconds ago, he looked like he was going to eat me like cereal for breakfast as soon as I got out of the car. You looked at him funny, didn't you?"

Shaw paused, debating whether or not to try keeping up the façade of Morgan scaring him off. Then he shrugged.

"He had a tattoo on his shoulder. 'Proud owner of a deaf bitch.' I figured that meant he knew some sign language, and probably some crude stuff. So I signed something to him."

"Well?" Morgan demanded.

"Well what?"

"What did you tell him?"

"You really want to know?" Shaw raised an eyebrow, sparing a glance for Morgan as he drove. Morgan just stared expectantly. "I told him not to mess with my lover or he'd find out exactly how many means of humiliating torture a fairy knew. And then decided to give him some graphic details on some of it."

Morgan wasn't sure what to say, so he just snorted and stared ahead the rest of the ride.

* * *

SO VERY sorry for shortness (bright side: easier to read, maybe?), I decided to just stop after some character/relationship building. I wanted to give whoever actually reads this some progress, since I missed yesterday's update, but it's also really late, so… short chapter. Tomorrow be Saturday, though! :D I'll write two chapters, just for you!

**vVvVv** R&R for faithful storytelling late into the night? **vVvVv**


	5. 01 Morgan Versus the Pilot PART5

The car pulled up slowly to John Wilkolms' house where said man was following several men in professional suits into a car. Morgan started to get jumpy until Shaw assured him they were just the bodyguards. Wilkolms nodded at them affirmatively just before he got in.

They followed his car to a local library. Several kids and even teens were waiting eagerly at the door. They let out a mighty cheer when John got out of the car and started waving with a smile on his face. Morgan groaned along with Shaw; keeping him safe in the midst of this mess would be a major pain in the butt.

Inside a table was set up, and the guards took 'at ease' positions behind it while John Wilkolms sat down and started the line moving. Shaw nudged Morgan and pointed at the taller, older people in the building. Morgan looked at him quizzically until he leaned in and whispered, "Try to flash on some of them."

Morgan looked around, and while common sense said the guy with a shaved head, metal piercings, and leather jacket was bad news, nothing seemed to pop up. The line moved steadily forward, and Morgan stared hard at each one of the people, discounting little kids.

"Excuse me, sir," one of them said, "My wife REALLY loves your book. Can you make a note to her in this copy?" Morgan got nothing. "I'm so glad you enjoy The Dangers of Flying, I hope to see you sometime. We will be good friends."

Pictures began crowding out his extraneous thoughts, the moment of crushing pain, then the information. He poked Shaw and whispered the info to him.

"I don't think…" Wilkolms started to say, and then stopped as Shaw poked him.

The man eyed the both of them talking for a long while. Finally, he got fed up with the long, whispered conversation.

"Look, if you two want to have your lovers' quarrel or whatever it is, have it when he's NOT signing books, okay?"

Shaw took him aside and asked him to accompany him outside. The man, looking slightly cowed by Shaw's presence, just nodded.

"Stay here," Daniel told Morgan, "I'll be right back."

"Right," he muttered, "The cool and dashing agent gets to do the coolest part. I bet Chuck didn't have to go through this. 'Stay here,' feh."

While Morgan was complaining to himself, a man in a dark overcoat slipped past him after Shaw and the other guy. Morgan turned after him, and after a few contemplating glances between the line and the door, he ran after the guy.

Outside, Shaw was arguing heatedly with the first guy. The man in the overcoat was nowhere to be seen. Shaw noticed Morgan in the corner of his eye and whirled on him.

"What are you doing out here? I told you to stay inside! Watch the line!"

The guy started edging his way out of the scene, but Shaw reached back and grabbed his coat.

"You stay," he said, not loosening his grip, "Morgan, you can't just go anywhere you like and – what do keep staring at?"

Morgan was looking past Shaw's shoulder, where the man in the overcoat was looming. "Behind you," he squeaked, giving Shaw just enough time to grab the man's wrist and knock the knife from his hand. There was a short scuffle before Shaw had him pinned to the floor. Unfortunately, he let the thug go, who took the opportunity to grab the knife and charge back inside the library.

"Morgan!" Shaw yelled.

Morgan nodded and ran after him as fast as his legs could carry him. Which wasn't very fast, all video games considered, but it was fast for Morgan. The people in the line were all standing back, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. John Wilkolms was barely fending off the guy with the knife. Morgan nearly froze in sheer shock, but the adrenaline was already pumping through his blood stream, so he ran straight at the guy with the mightiest yell he could manage.

It turned out to be a girlish scream, but it distracted the would-be-assassin long enough to throw him off. Morgan took advantage of the moment to tackle him and effectively pin his arms behind his back. Shaw was inside in a few seconds, bigger guy in hand, to arrest him and calm down the crowd.

Morgan looked over at Daniel, flushed with success, but his face fell as he saw some of the cuts and bruises on his arms and face. He tried to say something, but Daniel shrugged it off.

"He just resisted a bit is all."

The thought crossed his mind that maybe spy life wasn't so good after all…

* * *

I said two, I'm going to make an effort for a second one in only 30 minutes! Sorry about the really awkward fight scene... That's new territory for me. It's a miracle I made it through at all. R&R anyway? :]


	6. 01 Morgan Versus the Pilot PART6

Morgan sat on the couch at John Casey's, staring blankly at the TV. It had been an exciting day. But now it was over, and he didn't know how to feel. Chuck had asked him how it went, and he couldn't even bring himself to get excited about it and describe the intimate details to his best friend. Chuck looked happy, though, Morgan couldn't help but notice.

~***~

Chuck tried again one more time once the mission was over and he wasn't needed for backup. He drove to Lou's house, braced himself and knocked on the door. An unhappy looking Lou stood in the doorway, hair a mess, glass of wine in hand.

"What do you want, Charles Bartowski?" she demanded.

"Look, I know I screwed up. Again," Chuck looked down at his feet and pulled a bouquet of Gerbera Daisies. "But I want you to know that I'm honestly sorry, and you know what? Screw being invited in first."

He kneeled down in the doorway and pulled out the small box.

"Lou, I love you. I love your strange, but inventive and extremely delicious sandwiches. I love your smile and the way you use it even when you're extremely upset like you are now. And I want to see that smile every morning when I wake up. Lou Palone, will you do me the honor of becoming Mrs. Lou Bartowski?"

Lou cupped her face in her hands and nodded. Chuck slipped the ring on her finger and she knelt down and hugged him. Chuck sighed deeply and smiled.

"You forgive me then?"

"Yes, you big dummy," she said tearfully, "It's your job. You love it. I'm glad you do."

She sniffed slightly and snuggled her face further into his shoulder.

~***~

Morgan remembered asking him why he was so happy. Chuck replied that he had gotten all he ever wanted in life. Morgan snorted to himself. It always seemed to work like that, didn't it? Two people knew each other and one was always becoming happier at the same time the other started losing things.

Morgan paused his thoughts for a bit. If he thought about it he didn't know what he had lost, or if he ever had it in the first place. He was about to explore the realization further, when Casey walked into the room and sat next to him, a blank look on his face, too. Morgan was about to ask what was wrong, but then stopped. He looked more like he wanted to be left alone than to have a listening ear.

~***~

John took a deep breath and approached Sarah Walker at the counter of the Orange Orange. No more being a wimp about it. John Casey would never have the word 'wimp' attached to his title. Sarah glanced up at him for a second and smiled before returning to whatever task she was doing at the moment. Emboldened, he took a breath and started to speak.

"Sarah, stop going out with Shaw."

She looked up again, this time frowning.

"I'm sorry. What?"

"He's not good for you," Casey said, "and I- I l- lo-" he sighed, "like you too much to watch this happen to you."

"John Casey and the words 'like you' in the same sentence," she laughed. Casey winced. "How rare. I can handle things myself, Casey."

"Yeah, okay," Casey mumbled and turned to leave.

Sarah caught him before he walked out the door.

"John."

"What?"

"Thank you for caring."

"Yeah, sure, no problem," he replied. As the door swung closed he added, "Because that's what friends do." He watched Sarah move papers and receipts at the counter. "Care."

~***~

* * *

Well, it's obvious that at least Casey, Sarah, and Morgan still have more of their story to be told. Please, PLEASE R&R just once. I'm planning on a second 'episode,' but if I get enough comments, I might stretch it to three. x) Remember, comments/feedback are the energy on which a writer runs. If they don't get enough, they just fade away… So anyway, just make me really happy by adding a comment to the comments page. :) /blatant pleas


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